


Figure of speech

by sarahofcroydon



Series: Old men, modern world [1]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Humour, M/M, old dudes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-22
Updated: 2013-03-22
Packaged: 2017-12-06 03:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/730778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahofcroydon/pseuds/sarahofcroydon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's hard to enter the modern age when you're 1000 years old.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Figure of speech

**Author's Note:**

> Considering that they're that old, surely they would have spoken in much older dialects. I wanted to see them struggling with the rate of modernisation these days. :3

“Yet it vexes me so,” Ukitake was saying, wringing his hands. “I cannot help but be concerned for the man’s health. I cannot begin to contemplate the bodily effects of such a long and arduous life.”

“It is the health of his intellect I am concerned for,” Kyouraku replied moodily, “I am growing weary of his mind, which is all but a reliquary for the stale thought of centuries. Did he learn nothing after the Muromachi years?”  
  
“The ageing of his thought is wrought of much more recent causes than that, Shunsui,” Ukitake chided gently, noticing the worried movements of his hands and folding them firmly in his lap. “It is of Modernity. I do not think old man Yamamoto can adapt to it.”

He noticed a change in the atmosphere, a surge of electricity. “Someone is coming.”

Turning to the door, Kyouraku placed down his drinking cup and awaited the appearance of the new arrivals. As if from nowhere, Kuchiki Rukia and her young friend from the real world appeared at the entrance to Ukitake’s room, panting slightly in exertion.

“Captain,” Shouted the girl in greeting, falling to the floor in a formal bow. The boy, Kurosaki, was late to follow, looking bemused as he usually did.

Kyouraku and Ukitake straightened immediately.

“Oh, h-hi kids,” Ukitake said pleasantly, a hand raised in greeting. “What’s up? How’s it all going down at the…with the…with the… ”

“With the groovers,” Kyouraku finished for him.

“That was the seventies,” Ukitake hissed at him out of the corner of his mouth, which was received with a smug reply- “Tell that to Nanao.”

“Captain,” Kuchiki continued earnestly, apparently unaware of their exchange (the boy’s eyebrows were raised in apparent interest) “…orders have come from above, and I must depart for the human world. I am here to report and confirm this.”

Jolting slightly at receiving the unexpected news, Ukitake smiled at his subordinate. “Oh, that’s fine, fine…”

“…cool…” Kyouraku interjected.

“Yes, that’s cool. Make sure that you report on arrival… er, when you get there. Use your portable telephone.”

Leaning forward with interest, Kyouraku ran a hand over his chin. “Does yours have a polyphonic ringtone?”

The boy Kurosaki was definitely beginning to smirk now. Kuchiki had noticed and smacked him on the back of his head.

“No, sir!” She replied. “Monotone only!”

Turning back to her captain, she bowed once more. “If it is appropriate, I will now leave to prepare for my departure!”  
  
Beaming, Ukitake lifted a hand in farewell. “That’s fine, Kuchiki. Make sure you let me know what’s hip down there. I’d also love to know what’s going down on Urahara Kisuke, if you encounter him.”

Kurosaki lowered his head and began to snigger. Kuchiki flushed bright red and stood to attention, dragging her friend with her by the scruff of the neck.

“Understood, captain!” She shouted, “I’m taking my leave!”  
Stepping backwards, she disappeared as quickly and enthusiastically as she had come.

Kyouraku took his cup, filled it with alcohol till it was dangerously full… and passed it to Ukitake.

“I do believe the turn of speech is ‘to go down with’, not to ‘go down on’. If I am correct, which is usually the case, you have just expressed an ardent interest in the intimate affairs of another gentleman. Should my feelings be injured?”  
  
“Absolutely not,” Ukitake snapped, flushing and accepting the drink hastily. “I did no such thing. I certainly would not take the advice of a person still advocating the use of the word ‘groovers’. Do you still wish for flared trousers, Shunsui?”

Kyouraku replied mournfully, forgoing the use of a cup and drinking instead directly from his bottle.

“I still wish for those funny little Heian style hats.”


End file.
